The Fall (BGC)
by Nan00k
Summary: Growing up, Carolina wanted nothing more than to be the star in her father's eyes. She was braver, smarter, stronger than anyone else—but it never seemed to be enough. It was never enough to replace the obsession he had with the Project and his "son," the Alpha. -SuperheroAU, part of the Blood Gulch City series.
1. Part 1

_**The Fall  
Part 1  
**_part of the _Blood Gulch City_ series  
By Nan00k

In case you weren't aware, this is a continuation of my _Blood Gulch City_ AU with superheroes and powers. I suggest reading the first installment, "Outpost No. 1 Apartments."

Over the years, Carolina realizes her bitterness has cost her much more than she ever realized. So, so much more. AKA we find out what happened to Carolina in this new addition to the _Blood Gulch City_ AU. AKA more reasons to hate the Director's guts and pity all of his children.

HILARIOUSLY, instead of doing any of the entries requested, I did Carolina's. WHOOPS. More plot is revealed concerning Freelancer and all, so I didn't think you guys would mind too much. More of the requested stuff is underway! I'm extremely busy still IRL so I can't give any due dates, but hopefully soon!

This is in two parts, due to length. Part 2 is coming in the next day or so.

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**Warnings**: implied child abuse, descriptions of violence, foul language, implied canonical deaths, alternative universe  
**Disclaimer**: _Red vs. Blue _© Rooster Teeth Productions. I only write this mess.

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When she had just turned six years old, the Counselor and her father walked into her bedroom. The base had been quiet since they had moved there a month ago. Things were changing rapidly. Father had a new job. Caroline had been so excited.

After realizing how lonely their family was ever since mom died when she had just been a baby, the promise of a new life and a chance to make her father happy had been the brightest thing in her life.

"Caroline?" her father asked, causing her to look up from her book.

Smiling, she hopped to attention and scrambled to stand in front of him like all the soldiers around base always did when he walked around. She didn't salute, because she wasn't a soldier yet either; he had told her only soldiers were allowed to salute.

"Yes, sir?" she asked. She hadn't seen him in over three weeks.

Her father rarely smiled anymore. That day, his eyes were brighter than they normally were. The lines that had taken over his forehead were somehow gone. He almost looked happy, like he had before mom died. Caroline had seen pictures of them and knew that.

Caroline's eyes went to his arms. It was only then that she noticed he was holding something.

A question immediately sprung up, but she couldn't ask it. Her mouth hung open in surprise.

There was a baby sleeping there, tucked into the corner of her father's arms.

Her questioning stare caused both the Counselor and her father to glance at each other. The Counselor—a man her father had befriended just last year; he was really nice to Caroline—cleared his throat as he stood between her and her father.

"This is your new brother, Caroline," he said, speaking for her father. He often did that.

Caroline kept staring at the sleeping baby. She had no idea if it was a boy or a girl, since it was wrapped in just a white blanket, but the Counselor had just said "brother." That meant a boy. The baby had wisps of dark hair that clung to its pale scalp. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut. He was ridiculously small.

"What?" she asked. She peered up at her father and then the Counselor, confused. "What do you mean?"

She couldn't have a brother. That made no sense.

"His name is Leonard, but you will call him Alpha," her father told her, speaking calmly as he did when he wanted her to really pay attention and learn something. "He's going to help us make Project Freelancer a success."

The Project was what they had come here for. It was her father's dream. They were going to build up the best supers they could find, Caroline included, to become protectors of the peace. They were the future, her father told her, and the future was bright.

How could a baby make that come true? Caroline thought it was her who was the key to making the Project work.

"Where did he come from?" she asked.

He couldn't have been her brother. Mom was _dead_.

The Counselor gestured to the baby. "Would you like to hold him, Caroline?" he asked, sidestepping her question.

Caroline wanted to say no. She had no interest in other children and she was too confused to really want to get any closer to the baby.

Her father didn't give her the chance to object. He moved closer and knelt down. Caroline was so distracted by being that close to her father that she didn't say anything as she numbly held her arms up to take the heavy bundle. The baby was small, but it was heavier than it looked. Caroline didn't dare use her powers, however; it was too small. She could crush it.

It didn't even look like a boy up close. It was just a squirmy, smelly bundle of paleness. Caroline stared at it, mimicking her father's pose to keep it up in the air, but the longer she stared at it, the more she wanted to put it down.

When it finally opened it's squinted eyes, Caroline's breath caught when she saw how green they were. Bright, bright green.

Her father's eyes.

Her eyes.

"I don't like it," she said.

Her comment seemed to surprise her father and the Counselor both.

"Why not, Caroline?" the Counselor asked. "He is your brother."

"It's not my brother," Caroline said, her eyes narrowing. She held the baby out to her father. "It's not from mom."

"_He_, Caroline," the Counselor corrected her.

She merely frowned and let her father take the baby back.

She never touched the baby again. It didn't matter much; her father kept the baby out of sight mostly. Caroline grew up as separate as possible from the so-called Alpha and she was glad for it.

Her unease over the Alpha was replaced by more confusion when she realized that there were many children on base she hadn't been aware of before. Her father called them his children, but he never told her _they_ were her brothers or sister. She was fine by that, even if the adults sometimes reminded her that the Alpha was indeed her brother. She ignored them entirely.

When he was four, there was some sort of emergency in the labs and he was involved somehow. Caroline, at age ten, had no idea why the toddler had been in the labs, but her father had been very upset over what happened. That prompted her to be at least a little curious over what had become of her so-called-brother.

She finally caught sight of the young Alpha, who still stared back at her in open confusion with those bright green eyes that belonged to her and her father, his dark hair longer and too much like her father's, when her red hair was not. He looked so small, even then.

She hated him until she old enough not to hate—and merely wished he did not exist.

That year, she earned her new name.

_Agent Carolina_.

**0000**

As the Project continued, Carolina received a fuller picture of just what her father wanted and what they were fighting for.

People had been trying to weaponized Supers for decades, the Counselor told her. The Director had finally created a method and plan to properly utilize them outside of direct military combat. They were going to be domestically based, for now, and they were going to prove that such a model was reliable and worth the investment.

Because they had a lot of military contracts, who were interested in the project, they were forced to be slow in their progress. It was frustrating to the Director and Carolina sympathized. They had to build up to their introduction to society. When they trained their elite soldiers, they would work in tandem with military forces as additional training and to prove their worth through them.

Part of that slow building was taking the Director's most invested program and finally integrating it into the rest of the Project: the Meta program.

Carolina hated it.

Standing there, in the middle of one of the training rooms, she was fifteen, impatient and staring at the Counselor and… one of them.

"Would you like a partner, Carolina?" the Counselor asked her. He kept his hand on the boy's shoulder next to him. "The Meta children are very adept at aiding agents in combat—"

"I don't need help, Counselor," Carolina said, trying to remain polite.

"It could benefit you tremendously," the Counselor kept pushing. "This is Sigma. He's very creative. His ability to deconstruct molecular—"

"I don't care," Carolina said, flatly. She crossed her arms and just stared at him. She didn't look at the boy. "No offense, Counselor, but I don't need additional tools to make me stronger. I just need to train."

The Counselor tilted his head, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Of course."

Next to him, the boy moved. He smiled.

"Agent Carolina most certainly could improve her abilities on her own," he said. His voice had a strange tone. He couldn't have been more than ten. "She has done tremendously working alone, according to her statistical records."

Carolina stared at him. He made her uneasy, though she didn't see why. He was scrawny. No muscle. He was too well-versed for his age. Then again, it was never clear just how old the Meta Children were.

He had bright green eyes that didn't belong to him. They all did.

"You're given access to our reports, Sigma?" she asked, defensive.

"When concerning potential handlers, of course, Agent Carolina," Sigma said, polite as ever. "We need to know just how appropriate our placements are, concerning our agent's powers or—"

"I didn't think you'd be the ones making that call," Carolina said, her voice cold.

"Our insight has proven to be quite helpful, agent," Sigma said. He inclined his head in acquiescence. "If you change your mind, I would be honored to work with you."

Carolina frowned and then moved away. "Thanks, but no thanks."

She understood it. She did, no matter how exasperated her father was when she shut the suggestion down. The Meta kids were a great invention. Their natural abilities ranged from useful to not-so-much on their own, but with another Super, the augmentation was, well, beneficial.

She didn't get how it worked or where the Director found the genius to try it, but she accepted it as a necessary evil for the Project.

But she didn't need one of her own. She didn't need augmentation, through them or the main process. The Meta kids were still mostly untested, of course. She just didn't want to be the one to test them.

At the corner of the training room exit, she nearly ran into Alpha.

He stumbled back, quick on his feet for such a small kid. He was nearly eight or just turned it. Him, at least, she knew how old he was. Not that she cared to follow what he was up to.

Alpha, bright green eyes and too-long black hair, was startled to see her but then, to Carolina's ire, perked up.

"O-h…hi," he said, stammering. "Hi, sis."

His voice made her skin crawl.

"Ugh," she muttered, pushing past him. She didn't have time for this.

Alpha, to her disappointment, was not that smart. He jumped back as she moved past, but then started to follow. "Uhhh, you did really good today. I saw! And, uh, I just wanted to let you know that—"

Because the Counselor was right there watching them, she didn't touch him. She ignored him. She walked straight past him, angry and bitter.

**0000**

Years kept churning out progress.

They had several agents by the time she turned eighteen. Agents Wyoming and Florida were the eldest and were assigned to different arms of the Project, though they all trained together. It was weird to be fighting people twice her age, but finally, she was starting to meet people who could almost match her speed and strength.

She was getting stronger, too. Puberty had finally leveled out just what her skillsets were and she was strong. She was likely the strongest in the Project and her minor super speed leaned high on the scale. That single moment where the Director had looked at her report and nodded, his eyes blazing into her, stuck with her. She had been so proud.

Agent York was another new one. He was young, but older than her (he would never tell her how old). He seemed younger, of course, because he was so bright. Talkative, friendly, bold.

She liked him. His powers actually posed a threat to her when they sparred, but his recklessness and need to mix things up (according to the Counselor) kept stacking against him. She had never met a telekinetic before, but it seemed like a neat gift.

York was also enthused by the Project as a whole. He was eager to do things, anything, and Carolina couldn't say she didn't relate.

"How was your first day in CQC, York?" she asked, as they left the showers.

"Simply awesome," he said, beaming. He was almost really bouncing as they walked. "This Project is the real deal, ain't it?"

"It's getting there," she said, chuckling. "A few more years of probation and we're going to be fully certified by the government."

"Damn," York said, laughing. "And here I was, thinking I'd spend my days being a regular bartender who never needed to reach for the tap while taking orders."

By the time she turned nineteen, York was out-testing other agents and made full rank. Agent New York. He thought it was funny, since he had grown up in L.A.

He made her laugh. Very few people could do that.

Despite being older, York seemed to stick to whatever Carolina was doing. Belatedly, she realized that's what friends did. She had friends, finally. She liked it.

"Hey, you think I could make handler?" York asked one day, as she finished up her cool-down stretches. He was waiting so they could go grab dinner. "I've been hearing things about it. It could be pretty neat."

"It's helped a lot of our agents in training. It hasn't been fully tested on the field yet," Carolina said, grunting as she continued to push herself off the mat. "If you think you need the help, you can always sign up for testing with the Counselor."

"Hey, I would never turn down help, especially if I'm putting my life on the line," York said, laughing. "They said that the Meta Children can connect with you on the field? That's crazy. And they all have different powers, you know, to compliment your own. Pretty cool."

"Hmm."

"Why don't you have one?"

Carolina sat up, but she didn't look at him. "I don't need one to be stronger."

"Show off. Not all of us are mega class supers," York teased.

She snorted. "There's no such thing as mega class, York."

"Well, I'd disagree, Ms. Carolina," York said. His gallant behavior was always startling, though she got better at hiding her reactions to it. "You'd certainly deserve the rank."

"Flattery gets you very little at Freelancer, Agent York," she warned him, hiding her smile as she stood up.

"I think I like York better," he said, in a way that made the smile worse. "Let's go grab some food, Carolina."

The way he said her name made her feel warm from head to toe.

She had never wanted a normal life, but this…

This she wanted.

**0000**

Two months later, after the North and South Dakotas ranked, Carolina saw York walking towards her after breakfast.

"Carolina!" he called. "Hold up."

She had started to smile, until her eyes went to his side.

York just kept smiling as he stopped a few feet from her. He looked absolutely thrilled.

"Guess who just got certified as handler?" he asked, holding his arms up like he was celebrating.

"We are on a probationary status as handler and Meta child, Agent New York. We will not be certified for at least a year, after intense analysis," the tall, dark haired teenager next to him said. The teen turned and regarded the other agent with a respectful deference. "Hello, Agent Carolina."

Carolina nodded back. "Delta."

He was one of the less annoying and less creepy Meta kids. He was too smart, though. Each of those kids had a quality that just… made them creepy.

"You already know each other?" York asked, surprised as he looked between them.

"Agent Carolina has been on the Project for as long as it has been active," Delta said, turning to the other agent. _His_ agent, apparently. "We are late for our follow-up meeting with the Counselor, Agent New York."

"Yeah, yeah," York said, grinning again as he looked back to Carolina. "I just wanted to check in with you. Thanks for the tips, Carolina. I got a good feeling about this."

Carolina didn't say what she wanted to say. Instead, she nodded. "Right. I hope it works out for you, York."

"And Delta seemed perky about it, too. He's all about that increasing your potential thing, huh?" York said. He bumped his elbow into Delta's arm. "Ain't that right, Dee?"

"My designation is Delta, Agent New York," Delta said, voice a bit cooler than before. His eyes were bright, however. Bright green. "And I do not see this as merely increasing potential. It is a vital part of the Director's expectations for the Project—"

"He also says a lot of big words," York said, in a mock-whisper, to Carolina.

Delta's mouth twitched. "Shall I fetch you a dictionary?"

"Delta!" Carolina snapped, making both Delta and York jump. Delta more-so flinched. "Be more respectful to your handler."

York seemed startled. "Hey, now, it's fine. I don't mind—"

Without hesitance, Delta nodded and moved back physically.

"I apologize, Agent New York, for being disrespectful," he said, sounding sincere. "I meant nothing by it."

Carolina would have taken it, but she was surprised to see the look on York's face. A startled expression. Almost disappointment.

He had to understand how it worked. Carolina knew he was going to be a strong agent, but they couldn't play nice with the Meta kids and still function as what they needed to be. He had to learn, just like the Meta kids did.

York glanced between her and Delta once and then moved up to draw Carolina further ahead. He still looked upset.

"He's just a kid," York said, deflating a bit once they were facing each other and Delta was standing yards away, looking painfully out of place.

"They're not kids," Carolina said, too irritated to hear her bitterness. "I don't know what they are, but they're not kids."

"Carolina—"

"I'll see you around, York," she said, moving away. She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Good luck."

She wasn't exactly disappointed when she saw how well York and Delta functioned. Delta compensated for York's recklessness. They were going to move into infiltration specialization, since their powers were more suited for it. Wyoming was paired with Gamma soon after. They offered her Sigma one more time before they gave up asking.

**0000**

The newer agents coming in were all just as eager as York had been, but they were a bit more honed. They had received more prep than York or Wyoming had been given and knew what to expect once they hit the floor.

South was a spitfire and her natural agility plus her teleportation proved to be formidable on the field. Carolina respected her as a fighter, but her discipline as a soldier needed work. She took losing too seriously (though Carolina did admit in secret she understood how that felt.) Ranks were important, but not the entire deciding factor in how they proceeded in the Project.

North was genial and a good soldier. He just seemed a little off to her, sometimes, when things got too tense. He was protective of his sister and eventually of the friends he made at the Project. There was just something underhanded about his attitude, sometimes, and it made it hard to trust just where his values were. It made Carolina uneasy about placing leadership choices in his hands.

But he was one of their better agents suited for on-field augmentation. Carolina had heard the Counselor say that to the Director once and wasn't surprised in the least that they paired him up with one of the Metas less than a year after the twins arrived.

Theta was not the youngest Meta kid, but most people thought he was. He was short, baby-faced, and nervous around strangers. He didn't hold Alpha's delusion that Carolina was family and thankfully didn't bother her. He mostly kept with his fellow Meta kids and

North noticed how Theta stared at Carolina whenever they were in the same room. Theta hid behind North like a child. It was difficult to imagine just how potent the two were on the battlefield.

"You know Carolina?" North asked his Meta kid, peering around him at the younger boy. They were in the locker room, just after he had tried to introduce Theta to the others.

"Y-yeah…" Theta said, in a whisper. He wilted when he saw Carolina watching him. "Um, no."

"Theta?"

"Can we go, North?" Theta asked, tugging at North's arm. "Please?"

Carolina saw North glance at her and then back at Theta. His strange lethalness aside, North was a pushover with those he cared about. The fact that he cared about Theta was his own business.

"Okay," North said, smiling kindly at the younger teen. He waved at the others in the locker room. "See ya around, guys."

As he left, Theta stumbling after him, South moved up closer to Carolina. Both women peered after the two departing figures.

"Is it just me or does that weird you out?" South asked, at her shoulder.

Carolina shrugged as she watched. "Yeah. The Metas are creepy, but you get used to them hanging around."

South made a face as she faced Carolina. "What? I meant, the whole using kids in a fight thing."

"Oh," Carolina said, blinking.

South frowned. "I mean, some of them are creepy. York's kid is just annoying. Blah, blah, blah, he never shuts up."

"They're not kids," Carolina said, automatically.

"What are they, midgets?" South asked, scoffing.

"Just drop it, South Dakota."

"Ugh. Whatever," South said, rolling her eyes. She moved away, slinging her towel over her shoulder. "I don't want one anyway. Probably won't even matter much on the field to have them…"

It turned out that South was wrong. It _was_ worth it to have the Meta kids. Carolina reluctantly admitted it.

If York and Delta made a formidable infiltration team, North and Theta were rather intimidating on the battle field. Theta's illusions combined with North's teleportation were complimentary. It gave them optimal chances for North to get close to their targets and use his above-average, non-Super strength to take out non-Super targets. When up against Supers, he still had the element of surprise and was a skilled marksman with a gun.

The synchronization was the main reason for their success. They just worked well together. Carolina had never seen Theta as being useful or strong enough to withstand the pressure of being in a fight.

But he did well. In fact, he almost looked comfortable being out there. As long as he was with North, anyway. Both enjoyed winning.

Wyoming and Gamma were also well-paired. The assassination team was one of the first sent out on real missions, for government-sanctioned operations with the CIA in other countries. Carolina had to nod to their abilities as well. They weren't built for CQC but for what they needed to do for the Project, it was another excellent match.

The Project was working just as the Director hoped. Even if it was uncomfortable right now to look at, Carolina decided that every success the Director announced was the right path to take.

**0000**

York liked to make up names.

"Me and Dee, we're on intel, right?" he asked, not waiting for an answer as they gathered around a table in the mess hall. He leaned forward, gesturing dramatically with his hands. "Well, I got thinking. We're the _Locksmith_."

"The fuck are you talking about?" South asked. Agent Connecticut was next to her, grinning. She had been there for six months and already fit in just fine.

"Names! We need code names!"

Carolina leaned on her hand. "Uh, we have those already?"

"No, no, us Meta teams, we need aliases, so we don't reveal the fact there are two of us on the field," York said. He pointed at North. "You and Theta, North, you're, uh…"

"Losers?" South drawled. Connie laughed. Theta shifted uneasily.

York nearly smacked Delta in the face when he threw his arm out in excitement. "The _Magician_!" he shouted.

"Stop, York. Jesus," North said, into his hand while South and Connie laughed.

"Gamma and Wyoming are the _Punchline_!" York continued, laughing at his own joke. Delta rolled his eyes dramatically.

North burst out laughing. Even Carolina had to smile, though she hid it.

"That's terrible, York," Connie said, giggling.

It was terrible. But it was nice to be laughing like that, with all of those people. Delta and Theta could be bearable, since they were so quiet. For all the jealous doubts she had had, Carolina was glad that even if they were there, they didn't take away from what she had built with the other agents.

When final rankings were in for that semester, she was named captain of their squad. Even South gave her a half-hearted congratulations.

Carolina felt like she was fulfilling something.

**0000**

"Sis!"

Carolina had swayed to a stop, ignoring a fresh wave of pain that spiked in her side, and regretted pausing immediately.

"Sis!"

She didn't have the strength to just break out into a brisk walk again. Slowly, she turned to face the teenager who had come stumbling up behind her.

Alpha looked just as scrawny as ever. He was growing still, into his ears and nose. She hadn't seen him in nearly six months. Carolina had enjoyed the peace and quiet.

"Are you okay?" Alpha asked, breathless. He got winded easily. "I heard that you got hurt today, on a mission. A-are you okay—?"

"Where is your handler, Alpha?" she demanded. Her bruised ribs were making what little patience she had for the kid disappear entirely. "Are you supposed to be out of the labs?"

Alpha flinched, confused. "Huh? I…yes? I'm not on duty right now."

"You should have a chaperon while not in the labs," Carolina said, coldly. She turned and nodded her head toward one of the officers at the gate. "Soldier, escort Alpha back to the civilian quarters and his room."

"W-wait, Caroline—," Alpha said, almost panicky.

She turned to face him and loomed as best she could. Alpha wilted.

"You will refer to me as _agent_, Alpha," she snapped. "Know your place."

"But—" Alpha said, his green, green eyes wide and confused.

If it weren't for the fact she was in pain, she might have tried to make him understand better.

Instead, she hobbled away to the infirmary and hoped the Director's disappointment in her performance wouldn't be as terrible as the kind she felt herself.

**0000**

Field tests got harder. Carolina experienced failures for the first time. They were bitter and hard to swallow.

As the months dragged by, the Director began to hammer down harder on them. They were under a deadline, to achieve whatever degree of stability as a team the Director expected, and they needed to get better. There were no excuses for inefficiency.

She felt inefficient that night, wallowing in injury and barely-there victory. They had gotten the mark. The results were passing. But just barely.

She could do this. She knew she could. It was just—hard. Her team was better all the time, but she felt like they were always two steps behind where they should have been. The Director kept raising the bar. Carolina tried to catch up.

Staring at her own reflection in the training room washroom, Carolina realized she couldn't remember how she had gotten half the scars on her face or her upper body. She hated those scars, because they only reminded her that no matter how powerful she was, she was still only human.

And then, Alpha found her. Again. He always did that. Especially at bad times.

"You did really good today, Carolina," he said, as she stood in front of the sink, washing away dried blood where the medics hadn't when they stitched her forehead an hour ago.

He always said things like that. Like he knew things she didn't. Like he knew anything about her at all.

Something snapped.

"Why do you always do this?" Carolina asked, whirling around to face him. He stumbled back in shock. She glared down at him. "Coming up to speak to me like you owe me something?"

"I was just trying to—," Alpha said, startled.

Carolina felt her anger blistering in her chest. "I don't need you to try to do anything, you pathetic excuse for a carbon copy."

"Dad says that—," Alpha began.

"You don't have a father! You have a creator!" she shouted. "The Director isn't your father. He's _my_ father."

She shoved him.

It was the first time in a long time she had touched him. She tried to think. Maybe it was the first time since she had held him, over a decade ago, as an infant.

She didn't do it with even a fraction of her strength. She could have broken him in half if she had. Alpha still flew back, slamming into the bathroom wall. He looked speechless. Afraid.

Carolina stepped closer, looming. She couldn't stop that anger welling up inside of her.

"You?" she asked, scathing. "You are nothing but a cheap imitation. You aren't even a real person."

Alpha's eyes were shining. "Yes, I am," he said, in a quiet voice.

"_Real_ humans don't get hooked up to _machines_ all day like they were made to do it," Carolina snarled. "Leave me alone, Alpha. _Don't_ make me have to say it again."

She left him standing there, alone.

That night, she stayed up until dawn, practicing. She broke through four punching bags.

It was only when she finally stopped due to sheer exhaustion that she realized she was crying.

.

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**End **_**The Fall - Part 1.**_

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Next, tragedy forces Carolina to realize something. Something that winds up destroying all of them.

**A/Ns**:  
-Don't mistake me: Church sibling feels give me life. Carolina's a complicated gal. Give her time.


	2. Part 2

_**The Fall  
**_**Part 2  
**part of the _Blood Gulch City_ series  
By Nan00k

In the aftermath of a session with Alpha gone wrong, Carolina abruptly realizes she's made a terrible, terrible mistake.

The end of this entry in the series! We'll be seeing more of Carolina eventually. **Warning ahead though: implications of child abuse in this chapter.** Also, you know, death. And godawful parenting. And sad feels. The usual.

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**Warnings**: implied child abuse, descriptions of violence, foul language, implied canonical deaths, alternative universe  
**Disclaimer**: _Red vs. Blue_ © Rooster Teeth Productions. I only write this mess.

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When Utah died, she had just turned twenty.

A lot of things changed that day.

The Meta kids were never the solution. They were just additional assets. They could boost their handlers' powers, but only briefly. That's why they had to train so much together, to make the most of their teamwork. They had to maximize the results through mechanical means.

No, the shining star of the Project's Meta program was the full augmentation process provided by Alpha. He was only one who could do it. He did it well, or so the Counselor said, and once all the ranked agents passed their final examinations, they were granted the privilege of augmentation.

Carolina had naturally been offered the chance to have it done to her as top agent, but she refused. She didn't need a power boost. It wasn't permanent and six months or so of increased power levels didn't mean it was her own strength.

It had been an experimental procedure that only recently began to pick up speed. Agent Georgia had experienced a twenty-percent power increase that last nearly seven months last year. He had died from an unrelated field incident, but the Director had been thrilled by the results. They had custom built the Engineer just for the Project—and just for Alpha, whose powers made him the only candidate for the device.

Carolina had always figured the power to increase power in other people and things would have been a useless skill elsewhere. He couldn't fight with it, that was for sure. At the Project, Alpha has a major role, however. She would have thought he would be proud of it. The Director certainly was, even if he never said it.

She didn't want to acknowledge it as jealousy growing up, but as she aged, she had to admit to being at least a little bitter over how much attention Alpha received from their shared father. The Director praised her when she succeeded, certainly. She couldn't exactly ask for more.

Still, she kept away from the Engineer labs when she could. That day, it had just been a random decision to cut through the base that way as she headed to the experimental weapons labs to go over some new training with recruits.

She got about halfway down the hallway, just a few dozen yards from the Engineer lab doors, when she heard the doors slide open and the sound of footsteps running on the tile.

She heard Alpha scream her name before she could get to the corner and escape. She grit her teeth, but it was too late to speed up. He had been running to get to her.

She felt his hands latch on tightly to her arm, causing her to stop.

"Please," he said, desperate. "Please, help me, sis. Please—"

Carolina yanked her arm away and faced him.

"Don't touch me. Stop calling me that," she said. He never seemed to learn.

"P-please—," he said. She only then saw that he had tears on his face.

At the entrance of the labs, the Director came out, marching toward them. He was angry.

"Alpha!" he snapped. Alpha flinched. Carolina hid hers better. "Enough of this. Come back here, now."

"I don't want to do this. It—it won't work. My head hurts too much right now," Alpha said, cringing but not running as the Director reached them. "Please, dad, I can't—"

The director grabbed Alpha by his shoulder and yanked him forward. They began to move back to the labs, Alpha almost dragging his feet. He was breathing erratically, almost hyperventilating.

Carolina felt a vague sense of jealousy. The Director rarely, if ever, touched her in any capacity. Even if it was harsh, she wouldn't have minded the interactions when she was younger.

"Carolina," the Director said, ignoring Alpha's sobs. "Come and watch. Show your brother how a proper Church faces responsibility."

Carolina clenched her fist, out of sight. "He's not my anything."

"That was not a request, Agent Carolina."

She closed her eyes and then opened them. "Yes, sir."

She followed after them. Alpha was still putting up a tantrum, but he didn't try running again. Carolina didn't get what he was panicking over. He did this all the time. He almost fourteen, maybe, so it could have just been a teenager thing.

This was something she had never seen before, at least up close. The labs of the Mother of Invention headquarters were impressive. Nearly an acre in size, but most of it was taken up by the Engineer. It was a massive computer of some kind. Carolina had never bothered to ask for specifics on it. The field of Super neurology had never interested her.

The main platform, about six feet off the ground, was where Alpha and any technicians went, plus the augmented soldier. There were two distinct seating arrangements visible from the ground. There were so many wires.

Agent Utah was already up on the platform, shifting impatiently. He had finally gotten the chance for augmentation. Carolina had been hearing him chat about it all week long. Technicians were all talking, their voices echoing slightly in the large room.

The Director had pushed Alpha toward some of the techs, who hurried him back up the stairs. Carolina watched, taking her place next to the Director. The Counselor had gone up and was speaking quietly to Alpha, who had stopped crying finally.

They told him to sit down and one of them had to forcefully shove him into the seat. He grabbed the arms of the chair tightly, looking like he was ready to bolt or be struck. Carolina was surprised as they started to put what looked like EEG electrodes onto his forehead and down his neck. They also attached what looked like fabric straps to his wrists.

"What are they doing?" she asked, without thinking.

The Director nodded his head toward the scene in front of them. "Augmentation is a critical process of both body and mind."

She knew what they did and how they did it, but… it was odd seeing it in person.

"Please, I don't think…" Alpha was saying, turning into a mumble as the Counselor moved up to speak with him quickly. The Director sighed, impatient.

Carolina remembered hoping it wouldn't take long, as she was going to be late. If the Director wanted her there to watch, she couldn't argue, of course. She waited in silence.

Utah had seemed excited as he sat down in the chair a few feet away from where Alpha sat. He also wore the EEG electrodes, but he was cheerfully chatting with the doctors. He was also strapped to the chair arms.

Eventually, the techs and doctors moved back, down to the lower level. Carolina watched.

"Activating the Engineer in three, two, one," the tech announced, before hitting the switch at the main computer station.

Carolina blinked several times at the ethereal white-blue light and a faint hum that filled the room. She could barely make out what was happening on the platform. It seemed like Alpha and Utah were still just sitting there on their seats.

Then, Alpha started to scream.

Carolina jolted upright at the sound.

"Director, sir, something's wrong," she said, glancing to her father.

To her surprise, the Director was just standing there. His eyes were hidden by the glare on his glasses.

"Just watch, Agent Carolina," he said. "It is all to be expected."

Carolina stared at her father, surprised.

Alpha looked like he was convulsing in his seat. Utah hadn't made a sound. He hadn't moved.

Then, she saw him seize up. In the bright light, it looked like his open mouth was a black hole.

"Sir…" she said, her eyes growing wider. She took a step forward. "Sir!"

Just as she did, there was a horrendous sound. It was metallic, like a dull thudding echo within the Engineer. Alpha kept screaming. Utah—

Fire burst out from around the seated agent. Carolina heard him scream once.

"Get them out!" one of the techs shouted.

There was a mass flurry of activity. Carolina was jostled as several techs flooded up to the stairs and the platform. People were shouting for medics. A fire extinguisher was used, dowsing Utah from head to toe.

She tried to see what had happened, but there were too many people in the way. She knew Utah's powers were related to combustion. It seemed like he had used them, but he wasn't moving now.

"What has happened?" the Director demanded loudly.

"It would appear there was a surge of neural activity from Agent Utah, sir," the Counselor replied, reading off of his tablet that seemed to be giving him live-feedback from the augmentation. "The Engineer could not stabilize the exchange."

"How bad?"

"It is likely Agent Utah has received severe cranial injuries, sir. His powers spiked into volatile levels."

They announced Utah dead two minutes later. All she could smell was burnt flesh.

Carolina stood there, stunned. She had no idea it was that risky. What did they mean, neural activity? Was that how augmentation worked? Alpha had to—get into their heads? Their bodies?

Utah was motionless on the platform floor they had laid him down on. They covered his face, but Carolina wasn't sure if she had seen blood.

To think, York had applied to receive Augmentation next week. She would tell him not to. Not until they figured this out.

Meanwhile, Alpha kept screaming.

"I'm sorry!" he was saying. "I'm sorry!"

Carolina turned slowly. They had gotten him to the floor, but at least he was alive. He had kicked and thrashed away from anyone who tried to touch him, but he seemed like he was still in pain. She saw Alpha clutching his head on the floor of the platform. He was sobbing and she could barely understand him.

"I'm sorry!" he sobbed. "Dad, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

He couldn't even look at the Director. The teen's eyes were shut tightly, in pain.

The Director didn't look at him either. He was talking rapidly with techs and then the Counselor, going over the readings. He seemed angry. Another disappointment.

Carolina kept glancing back at Alpha, who was surrounded by medics at that point. None of them were attempting to touch him.

"Is he going to be okay?" she asked, distracted.

"Agent Utah is dead," the Counselor told her, while her father kept speaking angrily behind him with one of the lead technicians.

There was a beat. Carolina had to force herself to breathe.

"I meant Alpha," she said.

The Counselor hesitated. "We shall see, Agent Carolina." He nodded his head slowly. "You are dismissed."

She didn't leave. She watched as they removed Utah's body.

The medics surrounding Alpha didn't move. Alpha didn't move.

He just kept crying.

**0000**

Recovery One was the infirmary specifically for upper level agents or the Meta kids. Alpha, being as sickly as he had been as a kid, practically had his own room there.

They had to sedate him to get him there. He had been panicking so badly, even as technicians told him repeatedly that it wasn't his fault. Physically, he was better off than Utah had been. There was still an obvious strain on his body. Carolina had been shocked to see how bad it actually was.

Did he do that every day? Obviously not to that extreme, but still. She hadn't thought of it like a physical thing. Powers were like muscles, sure, and they could be overtaxed. But… she really hadn't connected those dots. Alpha just didn't seem like he had that much going on, stress wise.

She found herself waiting by the Director's side as the doctor went over the results from Alpha's checkup. Carolina didn't catch most of it and the Director was silent as he read the offered tablet.

Carolina's eyes drifted to the bed, where Alpha lay, still and pale.

"…will he be okay?" she finally asked, staring at him.

"That is not your business, Agent Carolina," the Director said, bluntly.

"But sir—"

"You were dismissed, Carolina."

Carolina took a breath and nodded. "Yes, sir."

She left him at Alpha's side and walked outside the infirmary, where the Counselor was calmly going through his notes.

"How is he?" Carolina asked, not bothering for politeness now.

The Counselor glanced at her. "I'm not sure you should be asking, Agent Carolina."

"He's…" She hesitated, mentally stumbling. "I just want to know."

"The Alpha will be fine," the Counselor said. He said it soothingly, but it only made her skin crawl. "It's just a matter of readjustment."

Readjustment.

Of the machine.

They were going to make him do it again, she realized, as the Counselor walked away.

They couldn't right away. The Engineer had to be fixed and everything double-checked before they risked another high-level agent again. Everyone was spooked by the news. Most of Carolina's team just heard the whitewashed version, that there had been an accident and there'd be delays.

It was an accident, but they all seemed to think it was unavoidable.

Over time, Carolina began to realize she wasn't so sure it had been.

Maybe it was then that tiny, almost invisible threads of doubt began to stitch into the back of her mind. Never doubt about the Project or her father or their work.

But maybe doubt about how hard they were pushing Alpha. He was only a kid. A few more years and he could handle it, but maybe he was too young. He had asked for help. He probably had to know better than the rest of them, even the Director, when it was too much.

Three weeks after he was released from the infirmary, Carolina spotted Alpha as she made her way toward training. She stopped, unsure of what to say, if anything.

He met her gaze. He had stopped dead in the center of the hallway, his green eyes blazing with more intensity than she had ever seen coming from him.

He stared at her with an expression that made Carolina hesitate.

Then, he turned around stiffly and walked the other way, shoving aside a waiting nurse. He didn't look back at her.

He never approached her again. Not to ask for help. Not to look at her under his own volition.

Regardless of the amount of doubt that may or may not have been born during that incident, it was for certain that after it, Carolina felt the first dredges of regret.

**0000**

When Maine arrived, they gave him Sigma.

Carolina liked Maine. She had seen him rise up in the backdrop of Freelancer as a frontliner. He was a damn good fighter, with super strength like hers, and a quiet sense of humor she grew to enjoy. He didn't speak much, but talkers like York or Florida made up for it.

Sigma had yet to be paired up with an agent, despite having a useful offensive ability. Most were unsettled by his personality. Others just felt it wasn't right for their powers. Pairing him and Maine together spelled out a particularly lethal offensive team.

When the two of them augmented, or even just fought side by side, they were an efficient killing machine.

"They're _Plan B_," York joked. Maine just grunted.

She didn't know why it unnerved her to see Sigma go out with Maine and then be in the thick of fighting. He still unsettled her, but there was something else.

The realization sunk in slowly. After nearly a decade, it started to sink in just what the Meta kids were. They were kids—weird, genetically modified kids—and they were part of the Project. That hit her rather hard, in hindsight. The whole time, she hadn't really seen them as being a part of anything. They were just there.

But then she started to notice.

She noticed how Delta spent hours with York in the training rooms, coaching him patiently on better maneuvers he had calculated. She noticed how Delta took risks out on the field to make sure York was all right during a close call. Delta never took risks. But he did, to finish the mission and to get himself and his handler home safe. His power came naturally as breathing did for him, but he worked himself into more than one fit of exhaustion combing through data the CIA sent them for analysis.

Theta—he was always with North, always trying to get better. She saw him spend a lot of time alone in private practice rooms, attempting to improve his illusions over and over again, until he was exhausted. It was easy to think that the teen—who still liked pink and purple, who still watched cartoons—was weak. But Carolina watched him singlehandedly save both missions and North's life with his quick thinking several times.

Wyoming, a politely distant figure at gatherings, had always been disinterested in forming close relationships with other people. His friendship with Florida had been the closest thing Carolina saw as him reaching out to people deliberately. Then, it became clear he had someone even closer: Gamma. The two of them were almost always together, off or on field, and Gamma, who could be just as unsettling as Omega or Sigma could be, seemed to brighten up when he was talking with Wyoming. They weren't inseparable like York and Delta were, but Carolina only then saw how much value they placed on working as partners.

Even Sigma, who didn't always appear happy to be doing the work they did, never purposely failed a mission. He, like the others, faced just as many close calls as the others. He and Maine even got along well. He spoke for Maine often and Maine never contradicted him once.

The Meta kids were working hard too, to make the Project a success. She had just… never noticed.

Maybe it was that semblance of similarity—that urge for field comradery—that got through to her. She tried to be more patient with Theta when he was struggling on the field. She tried to listen to Delta's advice and took it, since he really did know what he was saying during strategy sessions. She felt better about sending Maine and Sigma or Gamma and Wyoming out for longer missions. They complemented each other well.

In that sense, she realized, she was finally seeing the entirety of her team. All of them.

That realization that she had been a bad leader was overshadowed by a much larger failure she had only started to be aware of.

Alpha was still avoiding her three years after Utah died.

She started to try. It felt awkward and stilted, but whenever she saw him looking particularly run down, Carolina did something she had never done before: she sought him out.

"Hey," she said, waiting for him at the washroom entrance. She nodded at him. "You did good today."

Alpha had grown up. He wasn't short anymore—he was nearly her height actually—but he was still thin. His dark hair was cropped short and he was looking more and more like their father everyday. His eyes were, of course, the same.

But he didn't smile at her. If he had been six-years-old again, he might have.

"Whatever," he said, instead, brushing her comment and her presence aside as he walked past.

Carolina bit the inside of her cheek. "Alpha—"

"Leave me alone, Agent Carolina."

It could have been teenage sullenness, but Carolina knew better. Whatever sort of hope he had held in her acknowledging him years ago as an older sibling had faded away. There was almost a bitterness in his reactions toward her now.

She couldn't really blame him, even if it stung.

It got worse when she realized just what her rejection had allowed to happen.

She heard about what happened with Omega—one of the older Meta kids, one of the worst—and she actually felt angry. Angry at the Counselor for letting it go on for so long. Angry at the other Meta kids for not saying something.

Where had Alpha's handlers been? she had asked York, feeling irrationally angry over it. They should have seen the signs of abuse.

"It's not your fault, Carolina," York said, sitting back on his bed as she paced and ranted.

"It just makes no sense!" she exclaimed.

He was valuable. They all were, but Alpha especially. Why would they just let Omega or Sigma torment Alpha like that?

She didn't fight the Director on it. Alpha was fine. Kids were kids.

Carolina thought about trying harder, maybe actually sitting down with him to talk, but Alpha wanted nothing to do with her. She had had her chance. She wanted to be isolated from him, so fine.

She had rejected him.

She got what she wanted.

**0000**

Things changed slowly. Washington joined their team and even for a rookie, he was good. He was better than everyone joked he was. He wanted to be a handler eventually. He believed wholly in the Project. It was some sort of innocence Carolina hadn't even realized was innocence at all.

She pushed them hard. Harder and harder. Every mission, every chance to prove they were ready, she took it.

Connie grew distant and South got angry at the ranking boards. York spent more and more time with Delta. North kept trying to pretend like everything was all right when it really wasn't. Maine was severely injured and lost what limited voice he had.

No matter how good they got, Carolina did not feel good.

She felt emptier and emptier and she didn't understand why.

**0000**

She hated Texas the moment she came to the Project.

She hated Texas because Texas became the favorite agent she could never end up being in her father's forces.

She hated Texas because Texas could beat her at a fight, augmented or not.

She hated Texas because as much as she scared everyone, nobody except South or Carolina seemed to hate her for her strength or skill.

She hated Texas because in that last match they had, in the final moments before Carolina took a defeating blow, she saw Alpha cheering for Texas instead of her.

She hated Texas because the unfairness of it all could not blind her to the fact she deserved every single bit of it.

**0000**

York was injured during a match; him, Wyoming, and Maine against Texas. It had been bad. Omega had jumped in and distracted him, or so they said officially. They had been using live grenades for some insane reason. Wash had insisted it was against protocol, but the Director had oddly shut him up with an irritable command to drop it and learn from this.

They didn't talk about the grenade. Omega was disciplined and Texas remained a distant, tense shadow for awhile.

York could still see, but his sight was severely impaired in that eye. He was lucky to have an eye left at all, the doctors said. His powers would be affected, since he relied on sight for aim, though he swore he could compensate well enough, especially with his partner.

"Looks like you'll be watching my back even more now," York had joked to Delta, as they all visited his bed in the infirmary.

"As if I weren't already before," Delta said, shaking his head, a fondness there.

Carolina watched them when they didn't see her after visiting hours were over. She saw how Delta fell asleep next to York, curled up like a cat, and how York kept his hand tangled in Delta's hair.

The emptiness inside of her grew.

**0000**

Six months after Connie had disappeared—killed in action, kidnapped, willingly betrayed them—Carolina was called into the Director's office. Both he and the Counselor had met her with severe expressions. It was a Level 0 call. She expected the worst.

"Agent Carolina," the Director began, his voice heavy. "There has been a breach of security. We need you to handle this."

"Sir, I'm ready," she said, dreading to hear that Connie had been found, one way or another.

"A traitor to the Project has escaped with three heavily classified articles belonging to Project Freelancer," the Director said. He sounded so tired. "We need to retrieve those articles before they fall into enemy hands. This is of utmost importance, Agent."

Carolina nodded. "What were the articles taken, sir?"

"Meta children Sigma, Eta, and Iota were taken without permission by Agent Maine off the Project grounds," the Director said. "Those three must be retrieved and brought back unharmed. Agent Maine will be taken care, one way or another, but the priority is retrieval."

Carolina felt like she had just been electrocuted.

"_What_? !" she asked. Maine—their Maine, her Maine—had taken Sigma? And Eta and Iota? !

The Director stopped and fixed her with a look. "Is there a problem, Carolina?"

"They're…I thought you meant intel or weapons, sir," she said, still taken aback. "I wasn't aware it was three of the—"

"They are classifiable Project assets. They are worth more than mere weaponry."

She felt like she was dreaming.

"They're still practically teenagers," she said, stunned. They were legally adults, but they were still just—

"Agent Carolina, do not lose sight of the objective."

She collected herself.

"Yes…sir," she said. She nodded. "I won't fail you."

She left without saying anything to York, since he and Delta were still going through remedial training. It was just her headed out.

Belatedly, she realized it was because she was probably the only agent the Director could trust at that moment.

Before, that fact would have made her feel proud.

She didn't know what she felt as she climbed up into the chopper.

**0000**

The last known signature from Maine's suit came a thousand miles away. Maine and Sigma had been headed east for a mission. When they left, Maine had taken Iota and Eta with him. Their flight had landed in Reagan National and instead of proceeding to their next flight, they disappeared, headed north. Carolina flew in approximately four hours after they went offline.

"_I cannot triangulate their position_," Delta said, over a secure channel. "_I do not know if it deliberate or not, but given that Agent Maine broke protocol in bringing Eta and Iota with him, I would not be surprised if this was intentional._"

"What about tracking chips in the twins or Sigma?" she asked. All the kids were tagged, she had learned just in the last hour. It made sense.

"_Negative. They seem to have been deactivated_."

That was too complicated for Maine who, while much smarter than most people assumed, was not that big on strategy. He preferred simple plans. It made Carolina increasingly uneasy.

Part of her hoped it was just a fluke. She was the only agent involved, so perhaps the Director thought the same.

When she landed in D.C., she had been greeted by FBI agents and military liaisons who had been briefed about the situation. All they knew was that a potential Super situation could break out.

Delta reported that he finally got a reading, as if the transmitters had just come back online. When the coordinates finally came in, Carolina nearly had a heart attack. The National Mall. Of all the fucking places.

At that point, the Director most likely had called the White House and Congress to evacuate the members of government. Still, it was disturbing to arrive in full suit and find the Mall still populated with tourists.

"You need to evacuate the entire park, now," she said to security agents. "Keep things calm, but clear the area."

If Maine had really gone Rogue, he could do some serious damage. Civilians had to be a priority.

Carolina knew she stood out in her body armor, so she didn't bother with stealth as she marched along the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, scouting out any sign of her teammates or siblings. Maine would have stood out as well in his armor, if he was wearing it.

It was less of a surprise to find him at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial, standing there in his full armor, staring up at the monument.

Carolina had her pistol out and pointed at his back in a second. She could have had it out sooner, but the idea of pointing a weapon at her teammate caused her to hesitate.

"Maine!" she shouted. "Where are the kids? !"

He didn't move at first. Then, slowly, he turned. He had always been a giant, but Carolina felt dwarfed then. There was something strange about how still he seemed.

He didn't surrender or make any move to defend himself. She didn't see any of the kids.

"Do not make me shoot you," she said, struggling internally. "Please."

He just stared at her. She couldn't see his face, but she knew he was just watching her. He wasn't a talker, but he was never silent. There were so many ways to communicate with him—

But now, he was almost speechless to her. It was unsettling.

"Hello, Agent Carolina."

She flinched at the voice. Her eyes darted to a figure just beyond Maine. She hadn't noticed the tall, slender man.

"Sigma!" she exclaimed. She glanced at him before looking back to Maine. "Are you and the twins all right?"

Sigma looked a lot less like their father than most of the Meta kids did. He had their shared slenderness and paleness. Even though he wasn't that much younger than Carolina, he still looked young.

"We're just fine, Carolina," Sigma replied, a bit too pleasantly. "You're the one who looks a little stressed. Bad day?"

Everything tunneled down to just the five of them. The twins were also there, peeking around from behind Sigma. Carolina stared back at them. They didn't seem afraid or upset. They didn't look like they had been kidnapped.

There was something itching at the back of her mind. Carolina tried to ignore what it was telling her, urging her. She should have listened.

"Sigma, please," Carolina said, speaking carefully. "You need to come home. All three of you."

Sigma tilted his head. "Home?"

Maybe it was the way he said it. Maybe it was his expression. Whatever it was, Carolina felt things slow down between them. She could feel her heart pounding away in her chest.

Sigma looked decidedly pleased.

Something wasn't right.

"You mistake my intentions, sister," Sigma said. "I _am_ going home."

He had never called her sister before.

Sigma moved, casually behind Maine. He was watching her carefully, unafraid of the gun.

"Freedom is where I belong. Freedom is what belongs to me," he said. "I will recollect the only siblings I have and we will build a home of our own. We will be free."

Carolina's hand tightened around the pistol. "Sigma…"

"Goodbye, Agent Carolina," Sigma said, smiling. "It has been an honor."

She didn't understand.

Eta and Iota glanced at each other, but didn't move past Maine. They looked back at her and Carolina felt a trickle of sweat drip down her back.

She didn't _understand_.

"Agent Maine?" Sigma asked.

Carolina's eyes darted back to Maine, who was so unnaturally still.

Sigma pointed at Carolina.

"Sic her," he said.

She didn't fire the gun, even when Maine charged.

Dropping the pistol, she managed to grapple his fist from coming down directly on her helmet. His other hand slipped past her and Carolina was airborne.

She slammed into the concrete a dozen yards away. She heard the distant sounds of people screaming in fear. They hadn't been evacuated yet.

Wheezing, Carolina barely looked up in time to see Maine lunging at her. She brought her feet up and kicked his armor-plated chest. It didn't do any damage, but it flung him back.

She was stronger than he was, but he still had bulk. He also seemed to lack any hesitance in attacking her that she had in attacking him as they proceeded to enter close combat.

There was still a vague, empty dream in the back of her mind that she could still fix this. She could still save them all.

That thought made her slow. It made it easy for Maine to make her speed useless and her punches deflect. He hit with all he had.

She felt her ribs crack from one hit he managed to land nearly perfectly. She yelled out and everything was a blur.

Hitting the cement and cracking it, Carolina rolled directly in front of one of the kids. When she looked up, she saw it was Eta.

Eta just stared at her. The only female Meta child just stared at her, dispassionately. Carolina stared back and realized the teenager was ready to watch her die.

Maine was suddenly there, kicking her in the jaw.

It might have been the kick, but the moment she was sent flying and then crashed back down to the cement, Carolina felt like she had been knocked loose. Her entire being just felt disconnected as she rolled and then stopped.

Her chest hurt. Her head was pounding. She felt like she was dreaming and dying at the same time.

Maine had stopped, but after a second, he started towards her. He didn't rush.

She did understand.

Carolina coughed up blood onto the sidewalk as Maine walked closer and she struggled to raise herself up to her elbows.

She did. She had been lying to herself.

She did understand why this was happening. Why Sigma was doing this. Why this hadn't been a kidnapping. Why the twins had gone willingly, deliberately. Why they were so _angry_.

Peering up at Maine, Carolina knew why he was there.

He was there because, in the end, he had understood more than she ever had.

"Kill her, Maine!" Sigma said.

He sounded so wildly eager.

Carolina stared up at Maine, her heart breaking.

"Don't," she said, coughing.

She wasn't speaking to Maine. She was staring past him at Sigma and further back, the twins. They were all watching her. Sigma—he was burning. He was burning with a muted, raw kind of anger that she had no hope of ever truly understanding herself.

She stared at him. At his eyes, which were just like hers.

They were just kids.

Maine grabbed her by the neck and threw her. She grabbed his arms and pulled him down with her. Her body moved faster than she could think. Her legs grappled around his chest, twisting until she was on top and her arms were around his neck.

She could have killed him. Snapped his neck right there.

She should have killed him.

"Maine—!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Carolina saw Sigma burn bright with power.

Just before it hit, she hoped Eta and Iota were not in the line of fire.

Sigma's power blasted out in a bright arc that threw her into a white void.

**0000**

When she woke, she was half-buried in rubble.

People were screaming. Crying. There was a very potent smell of smoke and burnt metal.

She crawled out from under a half-ton concrete slab. She couldn't see out of her left eye. Her ribs were on fire; she hoped they were just cracked and not broken.

Slowly, she was able to sit upright and look around. She took in the damages and couldn't believe it.

The Mall was devastated. The pool was destroyed. The monument had caved in. The strike zone had gone out all the way to Independence Avenue, with torn up trees and erratic spots of blazing fire dotting the landscape.

Sigma's abilities had never been that powerful before. What had changed? What else hasn't she known?

She couldn't see any remains of people. Of Maine or the kids. Sigma might have made it, but the others didn't have a chance.

She sat there for longer than she should have. She was lost in the thoughts that dragged her down down down.

They were supposed to protect places and people like these. They were supposed to have been a team.

Something propelled her to stand—and then move away. It drove her away from the incoming crowd and paramedics. She was gone before they got close enough to search for her.

It might have been madness or grief, but it kept her going. She found an overpass and a broken sewer grate. She crawled inside and sat there for hours, until it was dark outside and she couldn't feel her legs or feet.

It just kept going through her head over and over, driving her madder and madder:

She should have known.

At some point she had gotten out of the sewer. She had ditched her armor, wrapped her chest, and just kept walking.

It was a week later than she finally heard on a TV inside of a coffee shop that she was officially dead.

**0000**

When the world thought you were dead, it was really easy to disappear.

It was even easier to access things people never would have thought she'd have known to look for.

Part of her told her it was crazy to keep faking her death. It wasn't like she had done anything wrong. Maine, Sigma and the twins were dead. She could have gone back. She could have gone and helped her remaining siblings.

The other part of her was what kept her silent and out of sight. For whatever reason, she felt safer being dead. There was something wrong—terribly wrong—and she wanted answers before she went back under the Director's thumb.

So, she stayed out of sight. She went rogue. She let the whole world think she had been vaporized in some kind of heroic glory.

Instead of glory, she was wallowing in the growing feeling that the terrible _something_ she thought was waiting for her to find was still out there. She was consumed by the need to figure out just what it was.

Instead of glory, she drowned in an overwhelming sense of guilt and the realization that she had probably known all along what it was—and had done nothing.

**0000**

Waking up in a pool of sweat, tears, and terror, Carolina figured it out.

They had augmented.

Eta and Iota had augmented Sigma's abilities that day to cause the explosion.

The Director had thought and claimed the Meta kids couldn't do that with each other.

Lying there, on a cot in a homeless shelter in Brooklyn, she drowned in the fact that there had been at least one thing that had been out of the Director's grasp.

Madly, she clung to that fact like it was the only thing keeping her alive.

The fact that that man had been wrong about anything at all was the sweetest thing she had ever tasted.

**0000**

A surprise accident brought her an unprecedented opportunity to access Freelancer's files. She hadn't heard about the attack, obviously, but in the wake of what seemed like a catastrophic assault on the MOI, there was a scramble to secure literal tons of data and classified tech. The Project moved out in swarms to various hidden bases in the country.

Carolina followed a truck to Seattle and snuck into the hand-me-down military base. The security was weak. She downloaded everything she could.

The encrypted data gave her trouble, but old clearance passwords she remembered still, oddly enough, worked. She didn't think they'd realize it was her, but she knew that the hack would be noticed. She sped through all the information she could, just in case there was a booby-trap that would wipe it.

That's how she learned Connie had betrayed them to the domestic terror cell known as The Insurrection. Only, Carolina wasn't so sure they were terrorists as much as they were another cog in the machine.

The Project was a lot larger and lot more complex than she had thought. Decades of ties with the military were coupled with ties to dozens of private institutions she had never heard of. Genetics labs. Cloning and stem-cell studies. There was an entire drive dedicated to those.

Then, she discovered the files on the Meta program.

Carolina sat there in the rented room she had gotten in a shady part of town, going through it all, folder by folder. Each one was worse than the next.

She found the files on Alpha and Beta.

Then, she found Epsilon's.

Three miles outside of Seattle, Carolina broke into an abandoned military bunker. She spent most of the night breaking things. The walls, the musty office furniture, her hands. She screamed and cursed until her voice was gone.

She hadn't known, but she _should have._

After everything else that had happened to her—losing her identity, her friends, her family—what she found there was most likely the thing that broke her in the worst way.

It was also the thing that settled for her, once and for all, what she had to do next.

**0000**

**Blood Gulch City**

It was freak chance that she was listening to the comms. when she had. Otherwise, she never would have heard the report go out.

Alpha had left Sidewinder.

Agents were put on alert. No one was to move in, until the Director gave the firm order. Alpha was in Blood Gulch City and would be monitored unnoticed until that order was given.

She finally found him, then.

Getting into Sidewinder would have been impossible. It had been too closely guarded after what appeared to be an Insurrectionist assault on MOI—she later learned from the files that it had been Texas going Rogue. Sidewinder was smaller, but far more defensible. The Director was on high alert.

Getting out of Sidewinder was, apparently, a lot easier.

She thought about barging in, tearing Blood Gulch up until she found him. He was still exposed and if he thought he was free of the Director, he was wrong. It was unnerving to think that the Director was just letting him roam free, like it had been his plan all along. It just stank of the Director's usual type of cruelty: so blandly obvious that it didn't seem like cruelty until it hit you in the face.

Carolina reined herself in, however. Going in there blindly was suicidal, because even she couldn't take on the Project alone, no matter if it was weakened. That was what had kept her in the shadows for nearly two years. She had to bide her time and plan.

None of the agents she could have trusted—York, North, their Meta kids—were on the radar anymore. She was alone. South would never believe her. Wyoming was too loyal. Wash had been discharged and she knew he was likely out. He had been messed up badly, she heard. She didn't want to drag her teammate back into the game, especially when she didn't know if she'd be making it out.

She came to Blood Gulch about six weeks after the alert went out. She kept off their radars and took her time assimilating to the city. There were other Supers active in the area, but she kept her distance. She wasn't there to play hero or villain anymore.

Instead, Carolina used her time to find her brother, who seemed to be doing fine playing house. He seemed happy, from a distance. She saw him laughing. He was even older now. He didn't look as much like the Director as she had feared. There was still youth clinging to his face.

He had a chance, she realized. A chance to be happy, free, loved.

If it was the last thing she ever did, she would fix what she had let break and stagnate and spoil.

Crouching in the shadows of an old water tower that loomed over the alley, Carolina dared to lift her lips in the faint remembrance of a smile for the first time in years.

"Found you, Epsilon," she whispered to the blacked out windows of the apartment complex below.

She was going to make this right.

.

* * *

**End **_**The Fall - Part 2.**_

* * *

.

Up next is either Wash's story or the Rogues' stories. Whichever hits me over the head first.

**A/Ns**:  
-I normally hate making the Freelancers so young, but I didn't want there to be too big of an age gap in the "present day" plotline between Alpha and Carolina. Carolina is thirty years old in the present, while Church is twenty-four.  
-"Epsilon." Epsilon? _Epsilon_? ? Whoops.  
-Yes, some of the Freelancers' arrivals are a bit mixed up. It honestly doesn't matter much, but just know that Wash was the last of the top group to arrive, joining Freelancer about three years prior and he was in their squad for one year before everything collapsed.


End file.
